In the Margins	With the End In Mind... by Kevin Thurston

Like many in the North American poetry world, Mark Truscott and a.rawlings organize or have organized a reading series along with producing great creative work. Truscott, author of Said Like Reeds or Things (Coach House Books), is currently curating the Test Reading Series (testreading.org) and rawlings, whose latest book is Wide slumber for lepidopterists (Coach House Books), co-curated the Lexiconjury reading series. They will be joined by James Hart, who runs the Zeitgeiste Poetry series in Detroit, on Thursday, November 16 at 7pm at Rust Belt Books (202 Allen Street) to end a great season for Just Buffalo’s Small Press Poetry Series. Artvoice caught up with Truscott and rawlings in Toronto recently and asked them about potential connections between their organizing and their creative work.

ARTVOICE: Both of you have, or are currently, running a reading series. Is there a connection between organizing and your work? If so, what is it?

TRUSCOTT: That’s a tough one. I like to worry troubled relationships further, and so I won’t make an exception here. I’m suspicious of current takes on the notion of community in our writing scene, and I’m also aware that writing is a social act. I think that community, especially when it’s advanced as a positive value and idealized in a context rife with unequal power relationships, is potentially alienating. Individualism is lonely, and of course likely delusory and stupid. Test, my reading series, is mine, yet I do so little of it. I can make idiosyncratic choices, but the role of the organizer ends when the reading begins. I like focus and applying pressure to things until they break, and so Test has long readings, Q&A sessions and archived recordings. I wrote most of my poetry before I even thought of running a reading series, and now that I do run one, I’ve been writing even more slowly than I did before. Digestion is half the battle though, and so I’m hopeful. Reading is a full-time job, and then I read just to relax after dinner. Sometimes I go out and people read to me. My latest kick is to consider form a function of a choice of referential frames, so I guess this spills over. Everything is polluted. I’m tempted to say that if you have an idea, it’s wrong. And I’m not a big fan of Clement Greenberg either.

RAWLINGS: I approach both my curatorial and creative works with palm flat to avoid bitten fingers. Bearing gifts. Head-on, as their eyes are side-mounted and possess only lateral visual acuity. With a chair and whip. In an orderly, single-file manner. With an idea for a feature-length film that would require further funding for development. Slowly in the standings, over the course of a long season. With the love of a parent. Brandishing a torch and pitchfork. With calipers to assess physical fitness. With disbelief.

On all fours. Hungry for more. On the third Tuesday of every month. When the bell rings. With a hohoho and a hahaha and a couple of tra-la-las. When we’re together. With tongue pressed hard against my teeth. With a shuffle-ball-change. After dark. Before applying pressure to the wound. With side-of-mouth precision. Leaning into the mic. As a form of activism. While gesturing. In the heat of the moment. While shaving the underbelly of a goat. With questions for the audience. While humming the theme song to Hockey Night in Canada. Guilty of jay-walking. Fresh from a morning run. Worried about rent. Occasionally. Frothing at the mouth. Frustrated by the 51-card deck. Blessed with the ability to read minds.

At the five ’n’ dime. When I feel like it. After the dishes are done. Instead of learning the metric system. During calculus exams. With a four-inch inseam. Second-guessing my decision to drink pomegranate juice. Under bizarre circumstances. Wickedly hung over. While wondering whatever happened to Sir Mix-a-lot. Full of pesto. Often. While striking flint against rock. Shimmering in the moonlight. Hot for teacher. Fit to print. While resigning from the House of Representatives. While wondering how the Republicans will justify their statement that “the time is right for new leadership at the Pentagon.” Sleepy from a hard day’s work. Full of vim and vigor. Confident the safety net is securely latched. Fumbling with my keys.